


Repair

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the incident with the spider matron, Ame-Warashi has to finally admit just how much Zashiki-Warashi has become to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repair

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the CLAMP anonmeme and posted on LJ July 11, 2008.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you sure you’re sure?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Zashiki-Warashi said gently, her expression demure, yet guilty. “I’m sorry… I w-worried you again. I-I always worry y-you.”  
  
Ame-Warashi bit her lower lip painfully, her expression unreadable, but intense and _real._ She didn’t say anything for a long moment before she released an agitated breath of hot air, slamming the tip of her umbrella into the ground so she can lean forward on it. Zashiki-Warashi made a small peeping sound, her cheeks turning pink in surprise, and looked at her companion nervously.  
  
“That human saved you,” the rain child hissed out, her expression crumbling like wet paper, her agitation replaced with something like relief and complete and utterly overwhelming guilt. “I couldn’t do anything.”  
  
“N-no,” the vestal sprite insisted, taking a step towards her before hesitating, unsure if such an action was too forward. “You do so much for m-me, Ame-Warashi. W-Without you… I…”  
  
The other spirit shook her head violently from side to side, and her blue hair bobbed back and forth in an almost comical arc. She strode towards her and grasped the other spirit’s hands tightly. Her umbrella clattered to the floor, utterly forgotten.  
  
“I couldn’t do anything for you,” she said, sounding utterly miserable and angered. “That human had to save you. I couldn’t even get near enough. All I could do was wait, and damn it, I hate that. I should be able to protect you better.”  
  
Zashiki-Warashi looked as if she were about to burst into tears. She stared up at the rain spirit, looking rather akin to a kicked puppy. “N-no, that’s not t-true…”  
  
“What happens if Jorougumo comes back for you? Or something worse? What if that human can’t save you?” Her voice was firm, not out of anger, but out of concern. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Zashiki-Warashi knew this, and yet, it couldn’t stop her from being utterly terrified. She’d done something wrong, once again.  
  
“Ame-Warashi…” Zashiki-Warashi began, looking terrified by this sudden outburst.  
  
The rain spirit must have sensed her distress because she released a long sigh, dropped her hands, and turned away, swooping down to collect her umbrella and brushing her gloved hands over the frills of her dress, making herself presentable and nonchalant, despite the sudden breach in comfort.  
  
“You’d really do so much for that human?” she asked, her shoulders as tense as her voice.  
  
Zashiki-Warashi’s face ignited into a bright red and she ducked her face, hiding it beneath her bone straight hair. She swallowed thickly, trying to summon words that wouldn’t both incriminate and dismiss her affections for that boy with whom she was so enamored. Ame-Warashi, too used to these bouts of embarrassment, knew simply to wait, eyes set firmly on the other spirit’s form.  
  
“I c-c-care about h-him,” Zashiki-Warashi admitted, hesitantly. “If t-there’s something I c-could do, I w-want to h-help him.”  
  
“He won’t be able to return your feelings,” the rain spirit said quietly.  
  
Zashiki-Warashi adopted a pained look, but she nodded. They both knew.  
  
“Even so… I-I want to h-help him as best I c-can,” Zashiki-Warashi admitted, swallowing and looking rather worried she’d done something wrong with that confession. She bit her lip and shifted from foot to foot, looking quite pained and confused. “B-because even if h-he can’t return m-my feelings, i-it makes me happy to s-see him happy.”  
  
“You’re too trusting; you’re too kind,” Ame-Warashi snapped. Zashiki-Warashi flinched, but only slightly so. Ame-Warashi either didn’t notice or paid it no mind, continuing, “You put yourself in danger for him. You could have died if he hadn’t been on time, if he hadn’t done something right while he was in there. How can you expect to live if you’re always putting yourself in danger like that? Really, this world is without class. It’ll rip you apart if you’re not careful, and yet you’re so stubborn and go into something as dangerous as that. You’re lucky that human has such an aura that he can get in there.”  
  
“A-Ame-Warashi,” Zashiki-Warashi whispered, tears in her eyes.  
  
Ame-Warashi snapped her mouth shut and huffed. “It’s dangerous, and yet you just… go headlong into it.”  
  
“Y-you shouldn’t worry so much about me,” the vestal spirit whispered, the tears threatening to spill over.  
  
Ame-Warashi hissed out a low curse, her eyebrows knitting together. She took a step towards the other spirit and inhaled a deep breath, sharp and to the point she said, “I’ll always worry over you.”  
  
“B-but why?”  
  
“Because you do silly things like this. Anyone who knows you would worry.”  
  
“B-but Ame-Warashi d-doesn’t worry over other spirits,” the vestal spirit pressed, biting her lip and trying to brush her own tears away.  
  
Ame-Warashi sighed again. Really, this wasn’t the way the conversation was supposed to go.  
  
“It’s because I like you,” Ame-Warashi said, her voice coming out far harsher than she’d intended, but everything about her was harsh and to the point. She was the rain—and rain could be very unforgiving in its delivery.  
  
The other spirit blinked at her for a long moment before her expression softened and she nodded her head.  
  
“I like Ame-Warashi, too,” the spirit said, smiling up at her friend.  
  
Ame-Warashi gave her a rather deadpan look before sighing irritably, pressing a palm against her forehead before inhaling sharply.  
  
“I don’t think you understand, child,” the rain spirit muttered, more to herself than Zashiki-Warashi.  
  
“Eh?” The spirit could feel her face turning pink again. “I’m s-s-sorry, did I m-make assumptions a-again?”  
  
“No,” Ame-Warashi said tensely. “I meant that… I like you in a way similar to the way you like that damn human.”  
  
There was a long moment before Zashiki-Warashi became distinctly aware that her face would never be a normal color again. She was seeing red, her blush was so intense. She sputtered out some words, couldn’t say anything coherent, peeped in embarrassment, and then hid her face behind the billow sleeves of her kimono.  
  
Ame-Warashi didn’t say anything, her face crumbled up in her frustration. She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her arms, silently counting the seconds between her confession and Zashiki-Warashi’s reactions to it.  
  
“B-b-b-b-b-but,” Zashiki-Warashi managed to get out, after she’d summoned some illusion of control over her voice. It wavered and wobbled in the silent air. “You d-d-don’t act l-like the w-w-way I act around h-h-him.”  
  
“Certainly not,” the rain spirit said, and had it been anyone else but the little vestal sprite, would have punctuated her indignation with a swift whack with her umbrella. Instead, she settled on a painfully rigid expression, her eyebrows knitting together. “I have far more control over such things than you do. You’re still unused to feeling these kinds of things. I’ve felt these things for years.”  
  
“Y-years?” stammered the other spirit.  
  
Something shifted in the rain spirit’s eyes and she took a step forward. Zashiki-Warashi did not protest the intrusion of personal space from her—she was far too used to the rain spirit going where she wanted, flowing like water—and let her hands be grabbed. Ame-Warashi studied the hands for a moment, swiping her thumb over the knuckles almost tenderly so. Zashiki-Warashi knew her face was still red and was quickly accepting that it’d be that color for a long time coming.  
  
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” the rain spirit confessed. “I know how you feel for that human, and I wasn’t going to interfere with that.”  
  
It looked like Zashiki-Warashi were about to attempt to speak, but second guessed herself and shut her lips, simply staring up at the rain spirit with a suffering look, complete comprehension still escaping her.  
  
“And I don’t expect you to return my feelings,” Ame-Warashi continued, her expression something that Zashiki-Warashi had never quite seen before. It was strangely resigned, strangely soft, something so unlike the rain child, who was so quickly angered, so quickly frustrated, so fierce and jagged in her appearance in manner. It was unlike her.  
  
“I don’t… w-want to be a b-burden,” the spirit whispered.  
  
Ame-Warashi didn’t say anything for a long moment. “You’re not.”  
  
“B-but you worry o-over me.”  
  
“I’d worry over you no matter what.”  
  
Zashiki-Warashi made a small noise of disagreement in the back of her throat, looking stricken. Ame-Warashi sighed and kept her grip on her hands firm. And, just as firmly, said, “You could never be a burden to me. Could that human ever be a burden to you?”  
  
“…No,” the blushing spirit admitted, ducking her head again.  
  
Ame-Warashi sighed. “That’s how it is for me.”  
  
“O-oh,” she whispered.  
  
The rain spirit moved slowly and pressed her lips against the other spirit’s forehead. The second made another peeping noise and the rain child could almost feel the heat beneath the touch. She pulled back and met the other spirit’s eyes for half a moment before sighing.  
  
Ame-Warashi took a step back, and dropped one hand. She unhooked her umbrella from her wrist and opened it, positioning it over her shoulder. She tugged on the hand she was still holding, pulling the spirit up next to her.  
  
“Let’s be going, then. The stench of humans is painful,” she said matter-of-factly. And began walking, keeping her grip on her hand present.  
  
Zashiki-Warashi gripped the hand back tightly and walked beside her, face still bright red, but not looking quite as miserable as she had earlier.  
  
“Y-yes,” she said. “O-of course.”  
  
“Hm,” the rain child agreed.


End file.
